


left out

by wildpaul



Category: The Beatles
Genre: (kinda), Angst, Drabbles, Jealousy, M/M, they are super short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-11-16 06:01:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11247786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildpaul/pseuds/wildpaul
Summary: Hurting incidents over the years.





	1. Chapter 1

I.

Paul.

1960

Hamburg

 

He feels left out, like always in these days.

The others have taken at least four prellies each except for Pete, who's just simply drunk, while he has chosen to stay sober. However now when he sees that John is putting an arm around Stuart's small frame as he laughs into his ear, he thinks maybe he made the wrong decision this night.

It's been like this for weeks and it borthers the hell out of him. The last time they have talked to each other while both of them were in a normal state must have been back in Liverpool. Since they have arrived it seems like John has lost interest in him, lost interest in almost everything. Except for Stuart of course. Who now also has that Astrid girl, so why does he want to have John's attention too?

He rubs his eyes and thinks of sleeping in his own bed at Forthlin Road. A quiet night, without the loud the music, without the choking smoke and the sickening smell of alcohol. A quiet night with John in his arms. With the normal John.

Looking at his watch he realises they still have five minutes until their next set. He is so exhausted he thinks he could fall asleep right here on this sticky table with the noisy music blasting into his ears. He genuinely considers the idea, starts to lean on his arms that rest on the table but then feels a small kick at his leg.

He lifts his head up and sees that on the other end of the table John is roaring with laugher while Stuart seems to slowly slide down from his chair with tears in his eyes, his lips forming a weird grin and there is a love struck gaze on his face that is aimed at John. It was his leg then.

Paul jerks himself into a straight sitting position and looks and his watch again. Three minutes. He picks up his beer, drinks what's left from it, standing up he fixes his jacket and starts to walk towards the stage. The shouts from the others are ignored.

He doesn't know how he is going to make it through the next few weeks, maybe he should just drink more and find some girls. Those could help to get John out of his mind. He steps on the stage, sits down to the piano and starts to mess around a bit until he waits for the others. He just hopes this isn't the end. Not for the band though, he knows that they are good and that they could be even better. But for the two of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orignally I wasn't planning on writing this chapter but I wanted to include Brian in the story too so here it is!
> 
> (In 1963 at the end of April John went to Barcelona with Brian for a 12-day holiday while the other three went to to Santa Cruz, Tenerife.)

II.

Paul.

April 1963

Tenerife

 

It's not even that warm yet but he can feel sweat running down his back. The air is humid, salty and not even the slight wind that is blowing can bring freshness. He feels like he can hardly breath.

The others are still busy with taking photographs of each other and the place. He took some of George and Astrid too but he is not really in the mood for this. All he can think about is _John_.

While he is stuck on this damn island John is having fun with Brian in Barcelona. Nice. The fact that they are in Spain too just makes everything worse. He should be the one with John there in Barcelona or John should be here with him, they should explore Spain together like they wanted to years ago.

He lights himself a new cigarette although he doesn't know why, in this weather it just makes everything worse.  
  
There is a tension in the air since they have arrived that has been bothering the hell out of him, it's like everybody is waiting for him to say something. Especially George, who is always looking at him and whose eyes scream that he wants an answer. Problem is he is pushing the wrong person, he doesn't have one. 

He's wondering whether Brian has already made a move but then he realizes how stupid is to think that. It seems like Brian is always making a move these days. But it all depends on John in the end. If John wants to play then they will. And that's the most annoying thing in the whole situation, that John loves to play.

With that thought in his head he excuses himself and starts to walk back to their room. He hopes that he will find peace there but when he finally closes the door behind him the smell of the ocean is still there. He feels like he can't escape it.

Deciding that he needs a shower he heads towards the bathroom and he takes off his shirt his trunks there. As the cool water starts to run down on his heated body he can feel relief spreading through his chest. It seems to help him for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [some photos from Tenerife](http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/03123/beatles_3123943b.jpg)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place at Paul's 21st birthday.

III.

John

1963\. June 18

 

He can feel himself slowly getting drunk. Finally.

They haven't been here long, probably an hour but it feels like eternity. He has seen Paul, he is practically glowing in the crowd and of course Jane is with him. Paul holds onto her slim body as if she were a trophy, a trophy that everybody should admire. Well, he won't.

He couldn't even say a word to him this evening without her being on his side. Couldn't even give him his present. Maybe he should just throw it at him hard so Paul would realize he is there too.

Fuck, his glass is empty again.

He can hear that Cyn is talking to George and some other girl he doesn't know but he just can't focus on the conversation. From the corner of his eye he sees that Paul is having a chat with Mike and one of his Aunts and Jane is still with him. His hand is strong on her waist and the looks he is giving her are ridiculous. Why does he feel the need to touch her somehow all the time? Everybody knows she is with him.

He needs something stronger if he wants to enjoy this party.

They said that some comedy group is going to perform too. He doesn't really understand why that is necessary this night is already a joke. Whose idea was it to have something like that here?

Without saying a word to the others he makes his way to the table where all the drinks are. He gets a beer and immediately feels a bit better as he takes a huge gulp from the drink. At least the booze is free, he thinks.

After two beers and a quarrel with Cyn he looks up to see if Paul is alone but of course he isn't, now only seven people are gathered around him. It seems that's how the whole night is gonna go then.

He lifts the new cold bottle to his lips again as he continues to watch Paul and how he is telling a story to his curious audience.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the traid ride from New York to Washington.

IV.

Paul.

11 February 1964

 

He was angry.. how could he not be?

This was supposed to be their trip. John's and his. It has been their dream since the beginning, the dream they have always talked about when they wanted to give the whole thing up, the dream they have always talked about when they were in ecstasy after a great set.

Everybody knew the US was the main goal of theirs, everything centered around the thought of being successful in that country.

But now when it was here, they were here, he couldn't fully enjoy a second of it. He wanted to, really wanted to but it was hard.

He was standing alone in the train corridor, smoking a cigarette in melancholy while gazing at the snowy landscape. It was shameful but he needed to escape the cheery mood that ruled the wagon, the cheery people that surrounded them wanting to hear the cheeriest fucking jokes. Sadly today he couldn't be the person to entertain them.

He knows John has seen it, hell, John knew exactly what kind of feelings it would bring out of him if he would bring Cyn along. Nonetheless he did it, he turned up with her, so it really hurt.

The fact that he was acting like nothing happened made everything worse, he didn't say a word about his decision since they got on the plane back in England, as if it were totally normal. Maybe in another situation it would be. But not for them. Not now.

He wanted the two of them to share a room or even a suite, as they did it in Paris one month earlier. He wanted to enjoy the success with John, the success they have achieved together through hard work over the years.

At least when they were performing he felt good. He just hoped this train-ride would end soon so he could get on the stage again and get lost in music.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no exact date about Paul's first acid trip, but I figured it must have happened after the recording of She Said She Said, which took place in June.. So I decided to go with October, since at that time John was already in Spain.

V.

John.  
  
1 October 1966  
  
Spain

 

He felt the anger still boiling in his chest as he made his way to his suite. With shaking hands he began to search for an already rolled joint, that could slightly calm his nerves down. When he didn't find any he started to make one and huffed angrily each time he messed it up.

Snippets of the conversation he had with Paul half an hour ago came back to him again and again. He lighted up the not so inviting joint and took a long drag.

Did Paul not trust him? Was he afraid of something? Ofhim? Or he just wanted to tease him and did it on purpose? He didn't know which one would hurt the most. Although the fact that Paul tried it when he wasn't at home was telling. Maybe he was the real problem then?

These and many similar questions swirled through his mind while he slowly began to feel the weed's effects. He leaned back in the armchair and closed his eyes. Finally his heartbeat seemed to slow down.

When Paul mentioned in the middle of their conversation, that he tried it with Tara, he sounded so nonchalant. He sounded irritatingly calm and casual. How could he not feel the weight his decision held, John didn't understand. He, of course was nowhere near calm in the last few second of their call. After shouting a few obscenities he hung up the phone anyway.

He wanted himself to be the first person Paul experiences the effects of LSD with. Paul had been so reluctant about the whole thing, something had always bothered him but he never told John what it was. For months he had been trying to convince him, in many different ways. He tried to seduce him, force him, used his new bond with George to make him jealous , but all these could cause were arguments. Nothing had worked but it seems like Tara succeeded in the end. He let out a miserable chuckle. 

He remembered the Christmas of last year, when Paul called him from Liverpool. How he told him, that he had an accident but thankfully good old Tara was there with him and now everything was fine with Betty, Mike and the doctor and John shouldn't be so worried. He felt numb after that phonecall too, he was mad at Paul and mad at Tara. However at that time he didn't think Tara would be such a danger. Danger? He started to roll another joint.

Even now, months after the incident he often feels the same ache in his chest he felt that night, when he touches the little bump on Paul's lip with his tongue. It's that feeling of paranoia and anxiety, that the day when Paul will no longer be with him is getting closer.

As he felt his eyes burning, he raised his hand to his face, took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't going to cry.

He imagined Paul under the effects of LSD. John wondered if he had a good or a bad trip and silently cursed himself for not asking anything about the trip itself. He hoped that Paul has enjoyed it, that Paul had seen things. That somewhere he was there too in Paul's mind.

John thought about the times he took acid. How he wished Paul could be there with him, experiencing the effects of the drug, seeing sounds and hearing colours. Yeah, he knew hearing colours would be Paul's favourite bit.

But at the same time he wanted Paul's trip to be bad, so bad he would never want to meet Tara again because of the terrible memories. He smiled wryly at his own viciousness. Every now and then he could still surprise himself.

However after a while the thought of Paul having a bad trip tightened his chest with worry. What if he really did have one? Did somebody take care of him? He fucking hoped so. Not Tara though.

For long minutes he was just looking at the ceiling with a blank expression on his face. When the end of the second joint started to burn his lungs he stubbed it out on the ashtray, stood up and made his way to his bedroom.

There he fell onto the still unfamiliar, cold bed, curled up into a ball and started to cry silently, wishing Paul was there to assure him that everything was going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this fic in my head for a while now, but tumblr gave me the inspiration I needed with the 'hurting incidents' tag and it ended up as the summary.
> 
> I think the story doesn't need further description, the title (and the summary) speaks for itself.
> 
> At the moment I don't really know where this fic is going, I have no clue how many chapters it is going to have but I have a few ideas I want to write about so..we'll see! 
> 
> Feel free to leave kudos and comments! :)
> 
> //English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes please let me know!//


End file.
